Page 61 of Secret Marriage To My Bosshole

Griffin

Cora’s jaw drops in awe as my parents’ beach house comes into view, its silhouette etched against the setting sun.

The walls, mostly glass, shimmer in the golden light, adding to the spectacle.

The driveway winding its way to the house is paved with luxurious white stones, creating an elegant path. Flanking it, meticulously pruned hedges and trees enhance the grandeur of the approach.

Cora bites her inner cheek as she looks at me. “Is that a marble fountain in their driveway?”

“Mom has a temperature-controlled closet for her clothing, and there’s a massive wine cellar in the basement with a bulletproof door for security.” I grip the wheel tighter as sweat beads on the back of my neck.

Cora toys with the slit that climbs halfway up her thigh. “Wow.”

“We could turn around and head back home. We could order your favorite food and have a relaxing night instead of torturing ourselves through this.”

I want her to tell me to turn around. I want to go back to the safety of our house where nothing can hurt her.

My parents are going to scrutinize every detail about her, and they won’t be kind about it. When I mentioned bringing my wife to dinner, they were shocked.

I’m sure they had private investigators look into Cora’s past as soon as I hung up because that’s just how they operate.

They call it ‘protecting their investments,’ but I see it as a gross overstep of boundaries.

But if I’m going to be with Cora, I know they’ll eventually find out about us. It might be best to bite the bullet before the situation escalates beyond my control.

All I can do is hope this dinner doesn’t turn into a complete disaster.

Cora inhales deeply and lowers the sun visor, adjusting the shade so she can peer into the mirror. With a delicate touch, she removes a stray flake of mascara from under her eye before glancing over at me.

"You're convinced this dinner will be a disaster, right?" Her voice falters as she gazes at the warm glow emanating from the house.

The waterfall springs to life, illuminating as streams of water shoot high from the mouths of several cherubs.

I groan, drumming my fingers on the wheel, unable to muster the will to turn off the car. "I doubt this will go well. My parents can be overwhelming, and they'll probably say some outrageous things to you."

Cora squeezes my bicep reassuringly. "We can handle this. I've seen your dad a couple of times before. He seems scary but not as horrible as he could be."

I grit my teeth and turn off the car. "You've only seen him at the office when he's on his best behavior. Things are much different at home."

She gives my arm another squeeze before pushing open the door. "We're going to get through this together. Come on, I doubt things will be any better if we keep them waiting."

I take a deep breath before following her, feeling a sense of impending doom.

This is going to be a huge mistake.

Cora waits for me to join her, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. She smiles, tendrils of hair escaping the loose bun at the nape of her neck.

Her pale blue dress floats around her as the ocean wind whips by. Cora's hand instinctively flies to the skirt, holding it down as we ascend the stairs.

The front door swings open just as we reach the top step, revealing the housekeeper with a warm smile.

Mrs. Cecilia beams and envelops me in a tight hug. "My dear boy, it's been far too long since your last visit. One of these days, you must join me for lunch."

I hug her back, the familiar scent of lilac wafting beneath my nose. Mrs. Cecilia is barely over five feet tall, but the tiny woman is terrifying.

Between her and my nanny, I was scared to step a foot out of line when I was younger. Mrs. Cecilia turns to Cora.

"And this must be your beautiful wife. You know, when I heard your parents talking about you running away to another state to get married, I thought they must have been joking."

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